


Dissolving the Insoluble

by 221BroadwayIron



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crying, Drabble, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221BroadwayIron/pseuds/221BroadwayIron
Summary: Peter shook his head again. “It’s stupid.”“If it’s making you cry, then it’s not stupid.”----------Or, Peter shows up in the lab on Monday afternoon, tears in his eyes, but doesn't want to admit why.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	Dissolving the Insoluble

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I wrote after work a few weeks back! Enjoy!

The kid was crying. 

Or, well, almost crying. He was hovering in the doorway of the lab, eyes red and glittering suspiciously, although his cheeks were still dry.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked. He spun his chair around to face him fully, mind already flying from one part of the kid’s schedule to the next. Something at school? His R & D prototype? Patrol the night before?

Peter just shook his head, eyes fixed stubbornly on his mentor’s feet. Both hands were fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“C’mere, Pete.”

He crossed the room too slowly. As soon as they could, Tony’s hands stretched out to take hold of his arms, pulling the boy even closer and running his thumbs comfortingly against the pulse points in the crook of his arms. 

“It’s okay,” he said gently, looking up into the boy’s eyes. “You can tell me. Or you can tell FRIDAY and I’ll just listen. What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Peter shook his head again. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you cry, then it’s not stupid.”

One tear broke free and dropped onto his sweatshirt. “It really, really is,” he said with a wet laugh, reaching up to wipe his nose with his sleeve. 

“I still want to hear about it.” 

Something about Tony’s patiently sincere gaze on him wasn’t helping Peter any in trying to keep his composure. He struggled with himself for a minute before speaking.

“It’s, well…” The kid’s face was turning red. “So you know Randy? Uh, Randy from R & D?”

“Yes, I know Randy from R & D. I hired Randy from R & D.”

“Right, well… Real great guy, y’know? He’s just so—”

“Peter.” Tony squeezed his arms to get him to stop. “I know you’re deflecting, buddy. Just spit it out, get it over with. Did Randy do something?”

“No-o. Well, not exactly…” 

A few tears leaked down his cheeks, but Peter seemed determined by sheer force of will to pretend that his body wasn’t betraying him and that they were just having a typical Monday afternoon conversation. He sucked in a shaky breath.

“I just— He came by when I was in the R & D lab and asked if I could move the stuff I’ve got down there to a different desk because there’s that new guy starting on Wednesday.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” Peter shot back. Defenses raising, he broke away from his mentor’s grasp. “I moved my stuff, he said thanks. That was it. I _told_ you it was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” said Tony carefully. “I just don’t understand. Can you try and explain it to me? What’s going on up there in your brain?”

For a minute, he didn’t think Peter was going to answer him at all. More tears fell and the kid turned to the side, crossing his arms protectively across his chest. His jaw worked. Tony waited. And waited.

“I,” he finally whispered with a small, choked noise. “I just don’t like being yelled at.”

Tony tilted his head to the side in a clear indication to keep going.

“Even when I was little,” Peter went on in a stronger voice, blushing even more, “anything that was remotely like being told off for something, boom, tears. It always made May feel really bad. But it’s not, like… I’m not upset, I don’t _think_ I’m upset.

“I mean, my brain _knows_ that it’s completely logical to have me move desks and I’m not _angry._ I’m not down there often enough to really care where I’m working. A desk is a desk, right? And I like Randy. He wasn’t yelling at me at _all,_ he was really polite about it. So there’s no reason to be upset. I guess… I don’t know. Just, anything like that is just, like, this _feeling_ in my stomach and then…” He gestured in the direction of his eyes, which were still red and swollen.

Thoughtful, Tony watched his profile. “I think…” he started slowly. “You don’t like doing things wrong. It makes you feel like you’re being an inconvenience and being ‘told off’ is like confirmation that you made a mistake and got in someone’s way.”

Peter visibly shuddered.

“It’s okay,” the billionaire reassured him. “I mean, everyone does things wrong. It happens and you fix it and then it’s fine. It’s not the end of the world. It’s… I know, that’s not exactly what you were trying to get at. That even when you know that it doesn’t stop your brain from believing other stuff… I’m trying to help, Pete, but I’m not very good at this. Is there… something I can do? Do— Do you need a hug?”

Peter jerked farther out of reach suddenly, his tone rising almost to a yell. “No, I don’t need a _hug!_ I don’t need anyone to make this better. I just need a new flipping _brain_ that’s not _dumb_ all the time!”

“Hey!” Tony snapped sharply. “Don’t call your brain dumb!”

Expression closing off, the kid spun around completely so that his back was to the man. His arms were tightly folded again, like he was protecting himself, and both the slope of his shoulders and braced position of his stance radiated tension. The only movement was the slight shift of forcibly measured breathing. 

_You're yelling, dang it._ Tony inhaled deeply and intentionally lowered his voice.

“Please don’t call yourself dumb, Peter. I happen to like your brain.”

He watched, but there was no response. _You've gotta give me_ something _, buddy._

“Do you _want_ a hug anyways?”

A tentative nod. One arm unfolded from around himself to brush at his face.

_That_ was his kid. Tony had never known Peter to decline hugs before.

“Okay, I’m coming over there.” 

He got to his feet and wrapped both arms around the teenager, holding him tightly. It only took a second before Peter was relaxing into him, breathing evening out into a more natural pattern. Tony stroked a calloused hand over his hair, and they stood that way in silence.

Peter broke it with a small voice. “You like my brain?”

“You bet I do, kiddo. Even when you think it’s over reacting.”

“Oh.” A pause. “I like yours too.”

Tony chuckled at that, holding the kid even closer. “Thanks, Underoos.”

_El fin._


End file.
